Kevin Duffy: A year later, Calhoun and Napier still in the fight

Updated 12:47 am, Friday, September 13, 2013

STORRS -- It was a year ago today that Shabazz Napier sat with his face pointed toward the Gampel Pavilion floor, shoulders slumped, the brim of his Boston hat pulled low to shield his tears.

Jim Calhoun announced his retirement that day. And as he spoke, as he told the crowd "the first step in being special is believing you're special," Napier pondered an announcement of his own.

"When (Calhoun retired), I felt betrayed," Napier said Thursday. "The way (the coaching staff) went about it, I felt it was wrong. It just seemed like a planned process. And that's the reason I felt like it was kind of selfish in a way. That's the reason I planned on transferring."

Calhoun had arrived at the decision to retire roughly a week before he signed the papers. Napier, who learned the news online, spent the next week weighing the option of a transfer. He was upset that Calhoun, a "father figure," allowed his retirement to go public without first informing his players. He was distraught, unsure of what would come next.

A full year later, Napier drapes a UConn towel over his head as he walks through the Gampel basement, a rigorous hill workout complete. Rodney Purvis, the latest top-tier talent to land in Storrs, is hoisting jump shots in the gym. Kevin Ollie has just arrived back from a recruiting trip.

And upstairs, in a new office above the court, Calhoun -- the special adviser to the athletic director -- shuffles through papers, putting together a list of speakers for his Sept. 22 tribute at Gampel. His sister, Margaret, calls and says she might not make it. Calhoun says she will.

"You have to get down here," he tells her.

And that's that.

Sometimes people need a push. Jim Calhoun usually doesn't mind giving it to them.

A year ago, because of the timing of his retirement (what Napier called the "planned process"), Calhoun pushed new athletic director Warde Manuel into appointing Ollie, which, as it turns out, was the right move all along.

"I thought if I was going to retire, if I could get my own guy," Calhoun said Thursday, "well, one of our guys, because that's what this whole thing is about. It's not about me. It's about family."

Today, it's about bridging the gap between eras, keeping the momentum rolling from a prolific 26-year run. Ollie did that in Year One. He won 20 games, a few more than expected, a few less than what was attainable if not for a brutal late-season string of injuries. He stuck with it, Calhoun said, never giving up on situations -- like the team's rebounding woes.

Oh yeah, he also had Shabazz Napier.

"Shabazz Napier is one of the most valuable players we've had in a long time," Calhoun said. "It was Kemba-esque, the kind of stuff he was doing. Not quite at that level, but I couldn't believe what he did in the overtimes."

It's true: Napier's presence (really, his sheer dominance) masked the frontcourt deficiencies that plagued the Huskies a season ago. Overcoming a lack of size and talent up front was the small-picture obstacle of 2012-13. The big picture, of course, was settling the coaching situation.

"I didn't create this, and Warde (Manuel) didn't mean to create this, but Kevin (Ollie) ended up becoming an underdog," Calhoun said. "You say, `He's a UConn guy, he's there (as a player), he's the coaches' choice, he deserves a chance.' So the unintended consequences of that was Kevin becoming the guy everybody rooted for. And that's great. No one planned it, but it happened."

Year Two post-Calhoun presents a similar X's and O's challenge. The frontcourt problems don't change, and the availability of two bigs -- Tyler Olander and Kentan Facey -- is up in the air. Arrested earlier this week for a second time in six months, Olander is indefinitely suspended. Facey, a 20-year-old freshman originally from Jamaica, could be ineligible for the entire season (that's usually the outcome of these NCAA delayed enrollment cases). Enosch Wolf is gone, too, leaving sophomore Phil Nolan and freshman Amida Brimah as the only sure-fire post players.

"I truly believe if we get enough play on the inside, that we can be one of the top 10 or 15 teams in the country," Calhoun said.

The big-picture concern is this: Can the backcourt be great enough to make this team great enough to succeed at a customary UConn-level despite a non-customary conference?

It's the league affiliation that has become UConn's latest roadblock -- real or media-generated -- on the path to future greatness. In some odd way, even with Ollie firmly in place and the postseason ban complete, there's still this floating perception that UConn, the three-time national champion, is an underdog.

Calhoun refutes it.

"I like two things," Calhoun said. "I like being No. 1 because that means everyone thinks you're good. And if enough people say it, that means you probably are pretty good. And I've always tried to play the underdog. But I don't think we're much of an underdog anymore."

A year ago, after Napier ultimately opted against transferring, he led one of UConn's great underdog stories. Cut from the same tough Boston fabric as Calhoun -- "His accent is different than mine, and he's a different color, but he's a father figure," Napier said -- the junior couldn't walk away after a disappointing 2012 NCAA tournament loss to Iowa State, the final game Calhoun would ever coach.

"I didn't want to sit out (if I transferred)," Napier said, "and I had something to prove -- to the coaches, to the fans, to everyone."

So here he is today, a senior, the face of a UConn squad fully capable of a typical UConn NCAA tournament run. On the eve of the one-year anniversary of Calhoun's retirement, Napier and the Huskies run hills. Ollie is on the road recruiting, seeking new talent that can keep the program at the heights it reached under Calhoun. The former coach is in his new office, speaking almost exclusively of the future.

"My whole thing is, we need to think about what the UConn attitude is going to be like," Calhoun said. "My attitude is, when I came here (in 1986), we had a fight.